The Worth of a Soul
by The Queen of Fragile Hearts
Summary: "How does one put a price on a human soul?" "Some find it easier than others." Hans contemplates the choices of his past and the possibilities of his future. Set shortly after the events of the film. (Helsa and Kristanna)
1. Chapter 1: The Voyage

**The Worth of a Soul**

**Disclaimer: I do no own ****_Frozen _****or any of its characters!**

**Notes: Anything in Italics is a dream, flashback, or inner thought. Or even just emphasis (EMPHASIS!)**

**Author's Word: Hello dears! I know it's been quite some time since you've heard from me, but what can I say? Life gets hectic. Anyway, just wanted to give a little thanks to anyone who is currently reading this because of my Sherlock fics. Your continued support is what keeps me writing. Now, I beg you to give this new little thing of mine a chance. I've got some great ideas for it, and as long as it's well received I'll carry on! So let me know what you think? No hate, please, I'll simply die!**

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Chapter One: The Voyage

"Stew in there, and think about what you've done. You'll be judged soon enough, I'm certain."

_What I've done. What's been done to me. What I should have done, shouldn't have done, wish I'd done, wish I hadn't done._

_What is the difference, anymore?_

_It's all the same, it's all just the links of the chains that bind me._

**oOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

There are always multiple perspectives to any story, any tale in which a person makes a choice that affects countless others.

If you would permit me this one small mercy... if you would allow me this chance... please let me tell my story. You have to know that I wasn't always a man who would resort to subterfuge and violence against women. You have to know that there was a me once who still knew how to forgive others, how to love. There was a me that was still a person. Still a child.

I just could never forgive myself. Maybe if I can show you the places it went wrong...

I want to earn forgiveness. I want to be whole. I want to be worth the air I breathe.

**oOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Beginnings are usually the best places to start, regardless of how terrible they may be. I was born on an awfully warm June evening, and my entrance to this world marked the egress of my mother. She lived a mere few minutes after my birth, long enough to breathe out my name and shed a few weak tears. Or so I am told.

They told me that her pregnancy was very difficult, that she was ill so often through it. They told me that I came too early, that her bones broke and there was so much blood. They told me that she had begged to die.

I killed her. I, the unwanted thirteenth son. I hadn't a memory aside from the name of my mother, but I wasn't allowed to forget that mine was the straw that broke her. Every day, someone insisted that I had not been worth her life.

Worthless. Trash. Rubbish. Words of endearment from my father.

He was a harsh man and a harsh father, but a just king, as the servants and the groundskeepers told me. All I knew of him was a drunkard with not one ounce of warmth in his eyes or his heart. All I knew of him was the marks on my skin and the tears on my cheeks and the nights I sobbed myself to sleep. All I knew of him was cruelty and pain.

Needless to say, I tried my best not to see him often.

I wandered the halls of his enormous, drafty castle. I made fast friends with the suits of armor and the mousers and the hunting dogs. I spent a lot of time in the stables, asking the horses to tell me stories. The stable master, while not unfriendly, didn't speak to me or even acknowledge my presence at all, except to give me a sugar cube now and then. I used to sleep in a little loft in the library on the worst days. In fact, the worst days became every day and I moved all of my most precious things into that little loft. He never came into the library. I was safe there.

My brothers were little help. They were fighting their own battles with him, too busy to fight mine. The older ones hated me the most because they remembered her the most. The younger ones spared a kind word now and then, but even that was taboo. When you're a pariah specially branded by the king, most of his subjects do their best to treat you likewise, including your own kin.

**oOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

One day I lost a ball in the woods and chased it to the front stoop of a little cottage. I was just about eight years old and that morning my father had strapped my hide for mentioning a song I'd heard a maid singing. My injured childhood pride had carried me away from the castle, as far as I could manage.

In the Southern Isles, all forms of art are considered sacred. Because of this, it is illegal for males to practice any sort of artistry, since our ancestors determined that only females had the grace and skill to produce works worthy of the heavens. My appreciation of the maid's song was an act of treason in his eyes. No son of his would betray the throne with such insolence in the face of tradition.

It was a strange balance he expected of me. I was worthless and useless and only good for beating or forgetting, but I was not to be a public disgrace, even if I was a private one. I was to be out of sight and out of mind, but still a perfect prince to uphold the family reputation. I was an extremely redundant offspring of his. After all, what need did a king have of even three sons, let alone thirteen? And why should he care a whit about the unlucky thirteenth?

There was a wizened old man resting in a rocking chair by the door. As I stood on his pathway, staring warily at him, he grasped his gnarled walking staff and stood, using the other arm to push his weight out of the chair. The elder slowly made his way to my ball and stooped shakily to retrieve it.

"Now, my boy, have your ball. Mustn't lose it, no, not a nice ball like this."

I drew a breath and approached him, carefully taking the ball from his hand. I bowed and murmured my thanks before turning to leave. But his voice stopped me, quiet and kind and soft. Nothing like I'd ever heard before.

"What is your name, child?"

"It's Hans, sir."

He leaned closer on his great staff and peered at me, eyes aged but clear and clever and a startling blue.

"There wouldn't happen to be a 'Prince' preceding that 'Hans', now, would there?"

I cast my eyes down and shuffled my feet in the dirt. _Unfortunately_, I thought.

"Yes, sir. I promise I won't bother you any, I'll just be going now. Sorry for the trouble."

"Nonsense, lad, nonsense. Come in, come in. The grandchildren and I were just sitting down to dinner. You'll join us, of course. Hmm, dressed a little scruffy for a princeling, aren't we?" he observed as he wrapped an arm around my thin shoulders and ushered me inside.

I was always dressed a little scruffy. Better to dress like my family treated me. Like refuse on the street. Better to avoid unfortunate attention.

I asked him what his name was. He told me to call him Granddad, like his passel of little boys and girls did. And we sat down at a table together and ate a warm, home-cooked meal. When we finished, all of us children washed and put away the dishes while Granddad sat in a large armchair and puffed on his pipe, his great white beard tickling his knobby knees. Eventually we were all gathered by his feet on the floor and he told us a story about a little swan chick that had gotten misplaced into a family of ducks.

Soon the light of day faded, and as Granddad herded the children towards the attic and their little beds, the strangest thing happened. Those young ones, aged just six years and younger, began to sing, boys and girls alike. The eldest spun a simple melody and her siblings wove harmonies around it. Until then, I had never heard anything more beautiful and I wanted so badly to be a part of this family. This very real, very happy family, where music was not scorned, but instead something to be shared. Where it was not withheld from the unprivileged.

"Granddad, can I stay here... with you?"

"Why, little prince, haven't you a large and loving family of your own to go home to? And besides, they'd toss me in prison for kidnapping!"

"They don't care too much for me. And I don't really think they'd throw you in prison. Rather, I think they'd pay you not to return me."

The old man's brow furrowed as he placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Now, young master, true or false those statements may be, but never you mind. I tell you what: go on home tonight and come visit me tomorrow. I'll be here, don't you worry."

On an impulse, I hugged him quickly before I ran back down the path and into the woods.

From that day forward, I spent every spare moment at Granddad's cottage. And I found some peace.

**oOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

That little cottage in the woods, so humble and simple, became the very best part of my life. Granddad began to teach me things. Music, mostly. That dear, mysterious, forbidden art. He taught me to sing, to play instruments, to write songs. I learned right alongside his grandchildren as if I was his own. On Saturdays and Sundays we drew and sculpted and painted. On Wednesdays we danced. On Fridays we read and wrote, stories and poetry and things.

In between cursings and beatings, I would learn a new concerto. After a drunken lecture on the family reputation, we reviewed the minuet. Some days I would be forbidden meals at the castle, and some days Granddad baked cookies and sweet rolls.

Like oil and water, these two halves of my life were. I couldn't get them to reconcile, to fuse themselves into some coherent self-entity.

**oOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

One learns certain things, when one's life is so splintered and strange. Like how to act. To conceal and cover up the unwanted-whatever. Model prince and worthless, monstrous waste of space in one outwardly well-manicured and inwardly volatile package. One learns how to shut down one's emotions and pretend to be a whole person.

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When I was fifteen, my father discovered that I'd taken to giving bread from the kitchen larder to the young vagrants that slept underneath the castle's great bridge. He threw me in the oubliette for seven months. There was no sunlight. There was a candle, now and then, but no sunlight. It's amazing how intensely one can feel a desire for sunlight as though it was hunger in one's stomach, deeply rooted and unseatable.

When at last the hatch swung open for the final time and someone led me to the servants' bathhouse, I stood at the window for seeming hours and wept at the scent of moving air and the feel of sunshine.

Once he let me out, I began spending time in the kitchens, where the chefs taught me how to cook and the maids taught me how to sew. From then on, I simply made food and clothes for the children while I was at Granddad's, using the money I earned from working for the castle librarian and the stable master.

Once he let me out, I started boxing and fencing. Hunting and fishing and riding. Archery and swimming. Anything physical. They never interested me before, and my father mistook it as me finally working at preserving our image. But what it turned out to be was an outlet. Whenever night had fallen and I was left to myself, I'd strike the punching bag with my fists until they bled, imagining his awful face broken by my hands. I'd race my horse over miles of open country, pretending that his words were the dust behind Lars' hooves.

Once he let me out, so little of the child I had been remained.

Granddad knew that the dungeon had changed me. He tried so hard to patch me up, to fix me. I lashed out at him a few times. They always ended with tears from either one of us and murmured apologies. I hated that part of myself, that part that so poorly handled the feelings of those I loved. I hated the part of myself that couldn't resort to a better way to deal with my own emotions. I hated the part of myself that couldn't bear that others should be so at peace, so happy, when I couldn't be, the twisted part that drove me to drag the fortunate into my depths of discontent.

Then again, I hated every part of myself.

The tighter my downward spiral and the more disconcerting my compositions became, the more Granddad fell silent. He knew me too well by then, knew that I no longer set any store by words. But he was still simply there, in that little cottage in the woods, and he contented himself still with imparting his skill and wisdom. Often our afternoons would pass with not a word spoken.

**oOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

His flesh and blood were growing up to be fine young men and women, all slender and fair creatures with voices like angels and kindness in their hearts. They were gentle to me still, even as warped and twisted as I had become. They still treated me as their brother.

A few months into my eighteenth year, I attended the wedding of the eldest sister, my dearest Aileen. There I had the most fortunate misfortune of meeting the beautiful Kristina, with whom I fell into a senseless, mindless love. She had the loveliest pale brown eyes. She had soft hands and a sharp sense of humor and a steadfast kindness in her heart. And she would sing to me, as I laid with my head in her lap beside the somnolent river in the woods.

I think I was happy, during our short-lived time together. I think that my night terrors had softened into nightmares and my decaying heart had started to regrow. I think we could have had some peace.

**oOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Just a few weeks shy of my nineteenth birthday, the king's health had deteriorated so terribly that a regency was required, and the eldest prince, Adolphus, assumed the duties of the realm. It was at this point that the extent of my father's terrible parenting exhibited itself in the tyranny of my older brother. He was cruel and unforgiving.

Arbitrarily, he chose this time to select a bride, and decided to choose from the eligible girls in the country rather than a foreign princess. Looking back, I am aware now that the "arbitrariness" of this decision was little to none.

Adolphus had discovered my relationship with Kristina, and "randomly" selected her out of the crowd at one of his grand balls. Her face was brave and calm as he took her hand, led her to the front of the room, and introduced my beloved as the future Crown Princess of the Southern Isles.

But that evening, on that riverbank in the woods, I held her in my arms as she wept, and I kissed her for one last time. We parted ways and she spent her last night in her childhood home. Mad with grief and hatred, I stumbled through the trees to Granddad's cottage. I arrived at his door shouting and screaming. In my fervor, I recoiled too sharply at a touch from his hand, and he fell to the ground, with a great bruise forming on his papery cheek.

"Hans, my child," he croaked through a throat thick with sobs, "How far will your anger take you?"

I carried him to his chair and wrapped a blanket round his thin frame. My own face was damp with tears as I knelt at his feet, as I had done so many times as a child. This time, instead of begging for a story, I begged for forgiveness. He simply placed his hands on my shoulders, and let me cry.

**oOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

When I returned to the castle hours later, I was seized by the guards and dragged to the Regent's study. He sat lazily sprawled in a large chair behind his ornate desk, and looked positively bored as he accused me of treasonous activities.

"I have it on good authority that you have been consorting with my fiancee, Katrina. Is that not true, brother?"

"Her name is Kristina," I growled through gritted teeth as I struggled against the guards' hands.

"I believe I said, _IS THAT NOT TRUE_?" He stood and slammed his hands against the desk. "Perhaps if you answer honestly, I'll be inclined to be merciful in terms of your punishment. I would hate to see something terrible happen to you. Brother. _Dear_."

"I love her."

"I am well aware. And, as I am feeling particularly beneficent tonight, I will accept that as your admission of guilt, and sentence you to a mere 40 lashes. Oh, I am nice, aren't I? Take him to the dungeons and work my will."

**oOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

I stopped feeling the strokes somewhere in the middle of my penalty. All of which I was conscious was the raging inferno within me, composed of years of scorn and ache and caustic words. On the thirtieth lash, that terrible anger manifested itself in the form of fire.

The whip and the ropes that bound my limbs turned to ash, and tongues of flame licked across my ragged, bloodied flesh, cauterizing the torn wounds. The dungeon master's hands and arms were singed and bubbled and the smell of burned flesh permeated the air. The guards fled the room and returned with the Regent in tow. Smoke was still curling from my body as the men in the room called me a "wicked elemental" and a "filthy abomination" while my brother decided my fate.

"Oh, would that I could just kill you, brother. A term in the King's Army should beat it out of him," he panted. There was fear in his eyes as he searched my face. "Gentlemen. As payment for your silence on this matter, you may choose a goodly sum or death. There is no option. No one else is to know of what transpired in this room or of the true circumstances of the prince's "decision" to enlist. Leave him in here this night. Tomorrow morning he goes to The Forge."

With a few swift kicks from the dungeon master, they departed. I should have caught a chill from the damp cell and lack of a shirt, yet the very air around me was charged with warmth. Slowly, I twisted my sore arms to search my back, and found brand new ridges of scar tissue rather than open stripes. I leaned against the wall, the stones heating beneath my skin, and tried to catch my breath. I lifted one shaking hand, watching as small flames danced across my fingertips.

There was a certain sort of terror that settled in my chest that night, a terror that spread through my limbs. This great power contained within me was nothing more than another burden. Another aberration, inclusion, fault to hide.

And yet.

There was also a feeling of freedom, just a small one, that accompanied that sense of fear. Helplessness is the greatest prison, be it a prison of the body or a prison of the mind. And though I was lying against a wall in a dungeon cell and was to be forcibly enlisted in the army the next morning, I didn't feel quite so helpless, anymore.

**oOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

That night, I slept a peaceful hour or two before a light rapping came at the door.

"Who's there?"

A small, dirty face appeared behind the door. I recognized him as one of the kitchen boys.

"What are you doing down here, young man? This is no place for a little boy."

"Well sir, I don't think this is any place for a prince, neither, yet here we are. I've brought someone to see you."

And then there was Granddad's face peeking through the bars as the child's feet skittered down the hall.

"Hans, my child. What will become of you now?"

"Granddad..." I rasped weakly as I held my hands before the door to show him my dreadful power. "My brother is sending me to The Forge in the morning to, quote, 'beat it out of me.'"

"This is a weighty gift, my son. You will be scorned, and distrusted, for the people of your land will not be able to understand your power. Very few have the heart or the character to bear a burden such as this, and to use it nobly and for the good of men."

I slumped against the door, head in my hands as a scream tried to choke its way out of my throat.

"But you, my boy, are surely blessed with a great heart to match this great power. If only, if only you can learn to deal with your great anger as well. I... before I came, I had anticipated that I would find you in some trouble. I am weary and may be dead before you return from your three years, and so if I am, I want you to follow these instructions." He slipped a small piece of paper through the bars.

"Granddad, I must tell you. I am sorry, for all the ill I've caused you. You are the only father I know."

"I dare not keep track of wrongs at my time of life. And you, the blessing of another son in my old age. Now hush, child. Our time is short and I must go."

**oOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

For three years, I served the banner of the Southern Isles in its wars with the western tribes, wars that we did not fight out of necessity but of greed. My countrymen bled and died for the sake of stolen lands, stolen goods, and slain peoples. There was merely suffering, day in and day out, of every creature involved. Yet how could we stop? How could we refuse our duty to the crown? No one had ever taught us how.

I still see their faces.

I wasn't very popular with my comrades. Like most people in my life that didn't outwardly expresss their hatred, they simply tolerated my existence, aware of my body but feeling no obligation to my soul. They knew enough. Enough to frighten them into silence and some into complete apathy. So I kept my quarters in the make-shift stables and bedded with the horses rather than sleep in the tent-rows of miserable men. No one cared- or was brave enough- to stop me. Who had the energy? We were exhausted and empty.

I learned to "control" the fire inside me, but I am not proud to say that many battles were won on my power alone. Not proud at all. I saved countless lives, at the cost of countless more. I could see the haunted fear of the faces of the men in my company. They were terrified of me and yet they were grateful, respectful. I knew that they were men of honor, and would not say anything about the peculiarities of the youngest prince of the land. Nor would they be anxious to. It pains me to say that there was never a danger of an enemy soldier speaking of my power. And I will say no more about it.

**oOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

By the end of my term of service, I had been made a captain and dismissed with honors. Upon my return, there was a small parade, quiet and polite, much to my relief. The castle staff welcomed me in secret, with little smiles and whispered words, and asked if I would be returning to the tiny loft in the library, which I was informed they kept ready for me. The stable master offered me an entire handful of sugar cubes and a terse nod. Thankfully the horses missed me.

I could scarcely hold myself within the castle walls, so anxious was I to return to my true family. I struggled through an incredibly painful family dinner, in "celebration" of my return, at which the Crown Princess Kristina could not even meet my eyes and the Regent grinned at all my misfortune like a cat in tub of cream and none of the rich food even managed to interest my war-hardened stomach.

I stole down to Granddad's cottage once the castle was dark and still. To my relief there was a light in the window and smoke issuing from the chimney. My knock was answered with a quavery "Who is it?" and tears caught in my throat as I answered, "A worn and weary traveler, home from war."

He yanked the door open with more strength than I knew his weathered frame could have possessed and enveloped me in familiar arms, and I was home.

**oOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

The week I spent with Granddad following my return was the most peaceful I can recall of my lifetime, filled only with music and laughter and simple companionship.

Of course, I knew something such as that could never last.

On what turned out to be our last evening together, Granddad and I were napping by the fireplace after a large supper and a thorough recounting of the family's goings-on. I should have know something was afoot, for though he had seemed his usual, jovial self, there was an undercurrent of detachedness and worry for the previous couple of days. Several times he asked if I still had that little slip of paper he gave to me the night of my exile.

It turned out that a couple of the guards he knew had casually warned him against seeing any royal persons without the Regent's permission.

If he had only told me...

All they needed was the sight of the guitar in my hands and the flute in his, and the verdict was levied.

They came just before midnight, accompanied by a sorceress who dulled my fire. They held me and forced me to watch as they broke his brittle bones. I screamed until there was no sound. They wouldn't stop. They didn't stop until he was limp and being dragged toward the castle.

At that point the sorceress drugged me, and I was not conscious again until I was kneeling in chains on the floor of the council chamber.

"It is lucky for you that the Regent may not command executions. That power remains solely with the King. So. What should be done with you, you treasonous filth?"

I must tell you how painful it was to have all of my power trapped and boiling within me. It raged beneath the surface, crying out for my brother's blood, but the sorceress still remained, leaving me helpless. I kept my eyes downcast and my mouth shut as he considered me.

"Arendelle crowns its queen next month, and I unfortunately cannot attend. However, I must send an ambassador. You will go to Arendelle, and if I hear of one little mistake, I will toss you in the oubliette for the rest of your natural life. Are. We. Clear?

I gave only a terse nod before asking, "What of the old man?"

"Consider him... collateral. He rots in the dungeon until you return with a perfect record. Then I'll release him. Should you slip up, brother dearest, I will be telling Father about your extracurricular activities and the old man... well, I do believe I needn't say it."

They gave me another 40 lashes while the sorceress was still present. The old marks had faded too quickly and he wanted a fresh reminder of my subjugation. This time, I could not save myself. This time, every strike cut deep into my flesh, past the old scar tissue and marks of battle.

Adolphus laughed.

**oOoOoOoOOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Thus, after a month of confinement in a castle tower, I made the two-day sea journey to Arendelle, and my arrival at the Grand Fjord is where you entered my story. But now you must pardon me for a moment.

The ship has made landfall at the Port Prosperous Harbor. My trial begins shortly.

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**Author's Afterword: So! Let me know what you think! I should have the next chapter up in a week or two.**

**Much Love and thanks, **

**-The Queen of Fragile Hearts **


	2. Chapter 2: Conviction

**The Worth of a Soul**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Frozen or any of its characters!**

**Notes: Anything in Italics is a dream, flashback, or inner thought. Or even just emphasis. (EMPHASIS!) This chapter is dedicated to Helene Gaspard, who was at home sick most of this week. Feel better, dearest!**

**Shout-outs: Many thanks to TWoaS's first followers- Gravespawn, waphlelady, GothicPheonix, my dear Irene90, MoOnZiiTa, Killergal100, and Bluetory! Special thanks to the first chapter's reviewers- Gravespawn, sakume, the fantastic Helene Gaspard, the lovely Irene90, and Bluetory! Thank you for your support!**

**Author's Note: Alrighty. I just wanted to real-talk with you guys. I started writing the first chapter in the beginning of December, I've just been dragging my feet. I storyboard-ed in my head but didn't write much down. I didn't feel to compelled to because at the time I hadn't seen any of my ideas on any of the websites I wander around on. But now, clearly there is plenty of other work containing some of these ideas (IE Hans/Elsa, Pyro!Hans, blah blah blah.) Anyway, the moral of this story is, I didn't steal these themes from anybody and I was inspired to write these independent from the other fantastic authors and artists out there. Just wanted to clear that up. So! Here we go! Taking a tentative step further into TWoaS because of your glowing support! Hope I don't disappoint. Enjoy :)**

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Chapter Two: Conviction

"All present will rise in respect for the King's Council. Please welcome the Arendellian ambassador."

I watched the procession of officials from my place in the stand beside the King's desk. I stood in silence, dressed as ordered in my captain's uniform with my circlet in place of my cap. That damnable sorceress sat in a curtained alcove to my side. Her supressive power left me feeling sick and weak.

I was being presented as a beast of sacrifice, adorned with splendor before the killing.

"All will bow in respect for the King and Queen of the Southern Isles."

Adolphus held my eyes as he peacocked his way to his chair, our father's crown glinting dully on his brow. I wondered if a day would ever arrive when the sight of him would no longer induce a murderous rage in the pit of my stomach.

She trailed the customary three feet behind him, a ghost in royal raiment. There was silence in her eyes.

"All will be seated. The proceedings will begin at the king's word."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

I remembered wandering the spacious streets of Arendelle, wasting time before the ceremony. It was vibrant and beautiful. Children dashed by me, laughing and singing. Flowers were twined in every lamppost and hung in garlands along the shopfronts and windows.

Very suddenly I felt a yearning to feel salt on the breeze and my horse and I picked our way to the port. Which is where, as you know, I, err, bumped into Princess Anna.

I didn't know who she was at the time. But I did know that she was lovely and warm. Her laugh was comforting. Her hands were just like Kristina's.

I can't shake the quiet defeat in her voice when she told me not to worry because it was "just" her.

In my dreams, her small fists beat at the door and her small voice begs for someone, anyone. I wake up begging her forgiveness.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"The accused is His Royal Highness, Prince Hans of the Southern Isles. The charges are high treason to the crown and attempted murder of the royal family of Arendelle."

Attempted murder. Of innocents.

I summoned all of the guilt and grief and self-hatred I felt once it was all over and I was completely aware of what I'd done, and then I tried to imagine it multiplied by one hundred. If I had succeeded... I am certain I would have killed myself. It wouldn't have been enough. Nothing would have been enough. My blood wouldn't have been worth theirs.

The worst part is, I can see what life would have been like in Arendelle had I assumed the throne. Had I killed those sisters and won a crown because of it, I would have become just like him. Exactly like him.

And I am grateful that Anna's love was stronger than my hate.

"Is there anyone who would contest the charges? Would the accused?"

"No. I am guilty. May the council do with me as it sees fit, and may the heavens have mercy on my soul."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

I danced and talked with her all night long, feeling so at ease and so... unburdened. Anna is so genuine and shameless and, yes, naive. But she made me want to learn to be like that, learn to look at the world with eyes unclouded by pain.

Somehow the conversation made its way back to my brothers and by the time the moon was vast in the center of the sky I couldn't bear to even think of returning home. And here, here was my escape route.

I asked her to marry me. She agreed. She insisted we live in Arendelle. And suddenly I was free.

Yet I was terrified when Anna left me to care for her people while she chased her sister through the mountains. Always, always I was hunted by the shadow of my father. But I did my best for them.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"The Council must now decide a verdict. The accused confesses his guilt. What say you, council members?"

One by one my guilt spilled from their mouths, and the council speaker turned toward the king. Adolphus looked at me, that langorous, malicious smile absent from his lips but bursting from his eyes. His gloved hand tightened around his staff as he rose and addressed the room.

"The accused is ruled guilty by the council and by the king. Now, council, we must decide a punishment for the prince."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

While Anna searched in the snow and ice, I remained steward of the castle's and the people's affairs. One evening, as I idled in the stables, a letter arrived for me. _Impossible_, I thought, _the sea surrounding the country has frozen._ I stopped the messenger girl before she ran off.

"How did this get here?" I asked her softly.

"Um, the post courier told me that the ship from the south sailed as close to the fjord as possible. Then, he said that there was a man on board who was wearing a fancy... crest, that's the word, crest! Um, a fancy crest on his shirt and he had been ordered to get this letter here at all costs, so he skated from the ship into the harbor!"

I handed her a sugar cube in thanks before she scampered off, little blond curls bouncing in the lightly dusting snow. Staring blankly at the Regent's seal in violent red wax, I didn't even hear her shout a farewell. Fear prickled in my finger tips and on my scalp as I broke the wax.

_"Brother dear. I've chatted quite a bit with your aged friend while he's been staying with us, and I've invited his grandchildren to make themselves at home here as well. Perhaps you know them: Aileen, Albrecht, Lena, Danja, Ekaterina, and Aleksander. They're delightful people. I hope I can make them comfortable while they're here. All pleasantries aside: the stakes have raised."_

Terror is a vice, unyielding and ironclad. I began breathing like I'd run ten miles in the sun and my hands shook. _He wouldn't. He couldn't. Not my brothers and sisters. Not because of my damnable foolishness_.

Not an hour later, Anna's horse came screaming into the grand square, alone and frightened to match my mood.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"Since the accused's crimes occurred on Arendellian soil, the ambassador shall speak for the justice system of the kingdom. The ambassador and the King's Council may deliberate on a fit punishment and vote."

The diplomat rose and faced the council. He was a tall and portly man, with rosy cheeks and a mop of messy brown hair. He had a kind face.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

She was magnificent. Powerful and vibrant. And caged, in a prison of her own making. An enormous, beautiful, ornate prison, but a prison nonetheless.

I had to stop her from killing those guards, even though she had the right to defend herself from them. I knew it wasn't what she really wanted. There was abject terror in her eyes. It seeped from beneath her blazing fury and permeated the very walls of the chamber in which we stood. She was just afraid.

Very suddenly, very forcefully, I knew the words I had to say.

"Queen Elsa! Don't be the monster they fear you are!"

Her eyes flashed with lightning as she whirled to face me. _I am not a monster! I am NOT a monster!_ they howled at me. _I am alone and I am afraid_, they whispered brokenly.

I needed a distraction. Everyone in the room was seconds from implosion. The man from Weselton raised his crossbow and my heart thundered in my chest. I glanced at the chandelier. So risky, and yet it appeared to be my only option.

I pushed the guard's arm up just before he could fire. All attention was suddenly on the enormous cascade of ice and the tension was replaced with instinctual self-preservation.

She didn't deserve to die like that, at a coward's hand.

The chandelier crashed to the floor.

I carried her before me on my horse. She looked so tired, so frightened, even in sleep.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"My Queen has expressed a desire that the accused not be executed for his crimes. She has charged me with finding an alternative reparation or restitution for his guilt. Council, please present your opinions."

She wished me to live?

I couldn't decide if this was beneficence or vengeance. Perhaps she felt that death would be too kind. She wouldn't be wrong. This way I had to live with the knowledge of what I had nearly accomplished, of the hurt and fear I wrought along the way.

At least Adolphus would be denied the satisfaction of fratricide. I chanced a look his direction. His face was equal parts bored and frustrated, but beside him, his weary wife was alert and watching me. It was clear that she had been waiting to catch my eye, because as soon as she did, she gave me an infinitesimal nod and placed her hand on the king's.

Comprehension sparked. I realized that she must have convinced him before the trial not to overturn the Arendellian monarch's wish against my death. It seemed that I would forever owe my life to one queen or another.

I nodded in return, and her face softened before she turned back to the council.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

A few hours later I visited Elsa in the small cell by the harbor. Though I tried to deposit her in her chambers, the visiting dignitaries insisted she be restrained and incarcerated.

A very heavy thought began to settle in the bottom of my heart. I knew so little about the powers of elementals. No one had educated me on the matter and I hadn't the time or opportunity to educate myself much. But I knew one small thing.

An old man in my company had sat and spun tales around the fire every night, and on one of these occasions he spoke of a man who had great control over the weather. Somehow he became agitated and his land was pounded with rain and the rivers and seas rose. According to the old man, the deluge only ceased when someone parted his head from his body.

Countless others insisted that death was the only reversal for the effects of an elemental's power.

I didn't know what to do with this fearsome knowledge, but I did know that Arendelle could not survive much more. It was with desperation that I pleaded with her to stop the winter, and with great despair that I left her in that cell, trying to figure out how to tell Anna when she returned.

That night I watched a child shiver and cough in his mother's arms by the fireplace in the great hall. The court physician gave him a day or two more, if the storm didn't stop. I was finally certain of the hard, painful truth.

Elsa would have to die so that her people could live.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"I am informed that the accused was awarded the rank of captain before his dismissal from the army. Perhaps a lifetime return to service?"

"The dungeons? The oubliette?"

"I still say execution!"

I didn't care. They could do with me what they wished.

The Arendellian ambassador had been very quiet through much of the debate, and so he commanded absolute silence when he finally spoke.

"Honored council, I have deliberated a long time on the queen's wishes and upon my own compulsions. As she has authorized me to act on her behalf in this matter, I shall present my plan for the accused's punishment, so long as the council wishes to hear it?"

"Proceed, ambassador," Adolphus practically sighed.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

The temperature continued to plummet as the foreign ambassadors all screamed and shouted about what to do. While their words swirled around the room, I thought about the woman in the prison below.

It would have been disingenuine of me to say that I did not sympathize with her, that I did not understand her agony and fright. And guilt. And anger. There had to be some other way.

Just as I was going to stand and ask the ministers for some time to search for options, that same little messenger girl was admitted to the room, bearing a letter with that same red wax seal.

_No_. _Please_.

_"Brother dear. It pains me deeply to tell you that our father has passed away, and it is with a heavy heart that I accept the burden of the crown. Furthermore, the old man is dead. And I am holding you responsible for the situation with the Arendellian queen. It has begun snowing in the primary islands. Until this is contained, I cannot speak for the safety of my other guests. Conditions in the dungeons are not the best, as you well know. Or perhaps I will execute one of them each day the problem persists."_

I swallowed a great mass of curses and invectives as I read the closing lines.

_"Our father suffered little. The old man screamed for your safety with his last breath."_

Rage. Cold and hot and freezing and burning _rage_.

_"The king is dead. Long live the king."_

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"In summation, Prince Hans would serve in the palace for a period of time to be decided by Queen Elsa. He would be a subordinate to all of the other servants, but not mistreated. Is this satisfactory to the council?"

I couldn't help but think this too kind. _Punish me, _I pleaded silently, _Hold me accountable for my crimes. I do not deserve mercy._

Suddenly I caught a wicked gleam in the eye of the king. His face curled in a malignant grin as he rose and addressed the council.

"Gentlemen, ladies. I encourage you to consider the ambassador's proposals with the following addendums. First, that the accused be stripped of his princely title upon the agreement of his servitude, and that it not be restored to him until such time as the Queen of Arendelle releases him and he returns to our soil."

He turned to face me.

"Second. There is a sorceress in my employ, I must admit. She is quite powerful. I propose that she lay an enchantment on the accused, robbing him of all speech but for one hundred words per day, enough for as many 'yes ma'am's and 'no sir's as he needs."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

I could scarcely speak for my fury. I had to find Anna as soon as possible and find a way out of the storm. There was so much more at stake.

"I'm going back out to look for Princess Anna," I nearly growled as I stood and made for the door. They chattered and squealed and it just didn't matter and I think I might have started breaking bones if at that moment the servants had not rushed Anna into the room.

She talked of being betrayed by her sibling and I couldn't take it. Her words sliced and grated against my frayed emotions and suddenly something inside me was broken. I was drowning in malice and lies.

I was being eaten alive by desperation for a solution and fear for my family and rage at my brother and despair for Granddad. I was crushed between the morals I had painstakingly cherished and the family for which I had voraciously fought. And my brother, the designer of my catastrophy.

She was going to die anyway. My kiss would have done nothing, for if I did love her, surely it wasn't that elusive true and pure thing that could reverse even death. Surely this was kinder. It had to be. Why prolong her suffering? This way, she wouldn't have to choose between her sister and her people. She wouldn't have to watch me, the man who couldn't save her, kill her sister before she died. She would just go to sleep, in peace and silence.

Oh, the things I began saying. The awful, awful lies. But it was better this way. Better for her to think me a villain. It would hurt less than knowing I didn't love her and therefore couldn't save her. Better to hate me for being evil than for being unsatisfactory, as she would hate me no matter what. This way she could die with righteous anger instead of a broken heart.

_One day, Adolphus, you will pay for them. And for me._

The temperature in the room rose briefly as I removed my glove to snuff the candle and the fire.

And then there was only wrath and deceit and anguish.

Suddenly I was telling the ambassadors that Anna and I had married before she was dead at the hands of her sister. And they just let me sign Elsa's death warrant. I had to stop the winter. I didn't care about the damned throne, I just needed the authority to order the execution. There was no way that Anna or anyone else would let the queen die to save a bunch of strangers. Much as I wouldn't let my family die to save Elsa. I didn't want to kill her, but it was her life or my family's.

Pain is an incendiary.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"I accept your addendums. Council?"

In turn, they all grumbled their assent.

"Your Majesty?"

He nodded imperiously.

"The council and crown concur on the punishment. The trial is over. Ladies and gentlemen of the crowd and of the council, please exit so that I may have a word with the accused."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

I followed her into the blistering storm, my heart and head pounding a singular rhythm.

_Aileen. Albrecht. Lena. Danja. Ekaterina. Aleksander.  
Aileen. Albrecht. Lena. Danja. Ekaterina. Aleksander.  
Aileen. Albrecht. Lena. Danja. Ekaterina. Aleksander._

_Granddad._

There she was in the heart of the tempest.

I was shattering with her. I had been where she was. I was her, for all intents and purposes.

_I am sorry._

There wasn't time to find another way. I raised my sword.

_Aileen. Albrecht. Lena. Danja. Ekaterina. Aleksander.  
Aileen. Albrecht. Lena. Danja. Ekaterina. Aleksander.  
Aileen. Albrecht. Lena. Danja. Ekaterina. Aleksander._

Anna's face. A burst of light and warmth. And then there was stillness.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

The doors closed with a deafening finality, leaving only myself, the king and queen, the sorceress, and the dungeon master. Adolphus left the desk. He tore the circlet from my head and threw me to the floor. The crown clattered hollowly on the granite and Kristina screamed as the king landed kick after kick into my torso.

"Get up. On your knees."

I obeyed. I knew what was coming. I wasn't going to fight it.

"Shirt and jacket. Now."

I managed the buttons but couldn't get my arms out of the sleeves. My ribs blazed and I fell forward, my bones wailing against the unforgiving stone. I expected more kicking but suddenly there were soft hands gently tugging the garments from my battered body.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

A few small tears fell on my neck and quickly turned to steam on my burning skin. I heard the door slam again. She must have fled. I couldn't possibly have blamed her.

The first stripe took me by surprise. And then they just kept coming.

_twenty three, twenty four, twenty five, twenty six, twenty seven, twenty eight_

"I will not cease until you faint or beg," he hissed.

_thirty one, thirty two, thirty three, thirty four, thirty five, thirty six, thirty seven_

"Beg!"

_forty five, forty six, forty seven, forty eight, forty nine, fifty, fifty one, fifty two_

"Damn you. Damn. _You_."

_fifty nine, sixty, sixty one, sixty two, sixty three, sixty four, sixty five, sixty six_

"Your Majesty," said a dark voice. "He must be conscious for me to work the enchantment."

He threw the whip back to the dungeon master and turned on his heel.

"I don't want to see him again. Brand him before you give him to the ambassador. With both crests."

Finally the door closed behind him and I collapsed. The dungeon master stood silently as I gasped and shook on the floor. The sorceress's hand was as heavy as her voice.

"I will lift the suppression if you wish to heal yourself before we begin."

"Please," I entreated, my voice crackling and flickering, "But you and the dungeon master should back away."

When they were safe behind the desk I felt the weight of her power leave me and the surge of my own through my limbs. It washed away the ache in my ribs and shoulders briefly as the flames sealed the stripes on my back. I dragged myself to a leaning position against the desk and coaxed air into my lungs.

"Go ahead. I'll be all right now."

She made her way to stand beside me and placed her hands around my throat. She began murmuring long strands of an unfamiliar language. I felt an odd sense of calm as a peculiar throbbing sensation issued from her hands into my skin. Within minutes she was finished.

"I hope you bear me no ill will, Prince Hans. I think, that of all people, you know how... persuasive... the king can be."

I nodded and gave her a small smile.

Very suddenly I was aware that I could still feel the fire bursting unrestrained in my bones. I let a flame or two dance across my finger tips as I furrowed my brow at her. She merely smiled.

"I know how it hurts to have your power bound. I feel no evil in you. I don't think I need to do this anymore. I'm not sure I ever needed to. And I am not sure I wish to do anything for the king ever again."

"Thank you."

"Save your words. They are precious now. But you are welcome."

With a few more murmured sentences she disappeared. The dungeon master merely shook his head and pulled me to my feet.

"I have to make a new set of brands. You'll wait in a cell."

Before the sun had set I was officially a convicted criminal of both the Southern Isles and Arendelle. Next to the tattoo of the army crest and the stripes that marked me as a captain, there blazed the royal seals of each kingdom. Below those marks my back was a mottled lattice of old lashes and battle wounds.

I had been branded as property and beaten time and time again. I still didn't feel that I had been punished.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

The ambassador quietly ambled around the library as I sifted through my meager possessions. There didn't seem to be anything I was really attached to. Everything I cared about was at... Granddad's. But I wouldn't go to his home, not with the ambassador. It would be sacrilege. Besides... there wouldn't be anyone there anymore. It would be as a body without a soul.

I stumbled and fell against a book shelf, knocking several tomes the floor. I scarcely had the time to grieve in between everything. It struck me like an impact to the ground, like every bone in my body was breaking and my lungs were crushed. I had known plenty of pain in my life and none of it had ever felt like this. The sobs that tore from my throat hammered against my aching ribs and I could not see through the tears that smoked over my eyes like a thick fog.

_My family._

I staggered to my feet and ran to the opposite wall, where there was a small secret niche in the shelf which concealed a small slip of paper. I quickly closed the satchel that bore the very few things I would take to Arendelle and ran down the stairs, clutching the paper to my chest.

"Ambassador!"

He turned and placed a book on a reading table.

"Please, Hans. Call me Percy."

"Percy." I showed him the note. "I need to go to this place. And I need to speak with the dungeon master. Please. Please."

He considered me for a moment and nodded.

"We'll have to be quick, though. The ship leaves in two hours."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"The Sørensen siblings?"

The dungeon master flipped through his records book.

"They were here briefly. I don't have anyone here by that name now. But I have to tell you that the king doesn't always use this dungeon for his... purposes. He has other means. I don't know where they were taken or what happened to them."

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

The directions brought us to a small house in the merchant district. The occupants, upon seeing my face, simply brought me to a tiny back room, wherein there sat a large wooden chest beneath the window.

"Thank you, ma'am," I said as I carried it towards the front door.

The lady of the house caught my arm. "How is old Elisæus, Your Highness?"

"He... is no longer with us."

"Ah. That's all right. He lived a long happy life. At least he is remembered by you and his grandchildren."

I fled the house without a second glance.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Percy and I waited silently on the dock as we waited for the boarding call. He fussed with an intricate gold pocket watch. I counted the words I had spoken since the enchantment took effect. _Thirty-one_.

When we were allowed on deck, I stopped and turned to look at my native land. The white and blue cottages on the pier gleamed in the fading light of day, and the seagulls wheeled low over the shore. In the distance, the enormous palace glared at me.

In that moment, I wished desperately that I'd had another chance to fall in love with this country again. Because truthfully, I think it would have been a wonderful place to live if I could have known it better, in a different life.

"Good bye."

_Thirty-three words._

That night as the ship left the country's waters, I made my way into the storage hold and curled up in some canvas. I could rebuild myself in Arendelle, on a foundation of one hundred words. The sum total of my worth. Forget Prince Hans of the Southern Isles forever.

How does one put a price on a human soul?

Some find it easier than others.

**oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

**Author's Afterword: Whew! I can't believe how quickly I cranked this one out, especially after the first chapter took me forever! Anyway, let me know what you think! Reviews and follows keep me going! I use a lot of exclamation marks!**

**Much Love and Thanks,  
-The Queen of Fragile Hearts**


	3. Chapter 3 (notreallyagainIMSTILLSORRY)

A Word from Queenie

Okay, I SWEAR that this is the last time I fake you out on Chapter Three here. Things are finally slowing back down and I've gotten quite a bit of work done on C3. I promise promise promise that it actually exists and that it actually will replace this placeholder. I'm still here! I still love you all! Please don't leave me!

Hugs and gush, The Queen of Fragile Hearts


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